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“We’ll have to get this out of the way first.”
I was confused by his words until I felt the cold metal of a knife pressing against my throat.
I tried not to gulp.
The knife continued to move lower, over my collarbones and between my breasts. It got stuck on the fabric of my dress for a moment before the blade sliced downward until the dress was separated into two halves. When I was left sitting in only my underwear, the man gave me a very blatant once-over before winking at me.
“Hold on tight, Blondie.”
I felt a sharp zing running through my arm as the electric prod fell on my forearm — quick and over as soon as it started. He then transferred it to my other arm, this time letting it stay longer on my skin.
My fingers clenched in on themselves, nails cutting into the palms of my hands.
This sensation was so unique that I couldn’t even find the words to describe it. It was an unsettling feeling, almost as if I had ants crawling just beneath my skin, digging to find their way out.
The prod poked me in the side, and I let out a gasp. He must have changed it to a higher voltage because the tingling feeling started to intensify.
I started to wonder if he got off on it.
Nobody could look this happy about electrocuting someone and not get at least some form of gratification out of it.
The instrument then left my ribs and landed hard on my knee. I barely managed to keep myself silent as my body jerked in pain. I was only given a couple of seconds to recover before the next round of electrocution began again, in the same order as before. Arms, sides, legs…
Only now did I realize that the little demonstration from earlier had just been a little warm-up.
The prod touched my skin again and the electric current sizzled through me, seemingly lighting up every nerve ending in my body for a couple of dreadful seconds before it dissipated just as abruptly.
It left me trembling in place, my whole body spasming against my will.
The next shock was delivered to my inner thigh, sending a jolt through me that I could feel all the way from my toes up to the roots of my hair.
I let out a muffled shriek, finding it impossible to contain no matter how hard I tried. Through the buzzing in my ears, I could hear someone laughing.
“Now we are getting somewhere!”
The searing pain persisted even after the electrical shock had stopped, the warm metal just resting on my skin now.
My head felt like it was on fire; my heart like it was going to beat out of my chest. I didn’t know whether this was because of the electricity, the drugs they had injected me with, or a combination of both. All I knew was that I wanted it to stop.
I felt the prod teasing my inner thighs again, and I struggled hard against the ropes, trying to close my trembling legs, all the while knowing that it was futile.
A cool palm pressed against my forehead, pulling my head back to rest it against someone behind me.
“Be good now, breathe out…” a voice soothingly murmured. Dark spots clouded my vision, making it impossible to see who the man was, but that wasn’t important at the moment.
I tried to clear my head and focus on my breathing — taking in a deep breath through my nose, and then exhaling it slowly — but no matter how much I tried, I still couldn’t calm down. My heart was still feeling like it was going to beat out of my chest, and my muscles were tingling and aching like I was being poked by a thousand needles.
Through the high-pitched buzzing in my ears and the sounds of my own deep breaths, another terrible voice cut in. “Brace yourself, Blondie… this next one’s gonna hurt.”
I sucked in a sharp breath as the tip stopped stroking my inner thighs and I felt it slowly creeping up my stomach until it was placed directly over my fucking nipple.
The sound that broke out of my throat was quite possibly the most agonized cry I had ever made in my life. Although the pain of the shock was fleeting, it was so unbelievably piercing that it left my whole body in a state of panic and distress. I couldn’t concentrate on anything other than the white searing pain that exploded over my breast. The fabric that covered my mouth did very little to muffle the high-pitched whines as they tried to escape past my lips.
I felt fingers moving in slow, soothing circles over my scalp — imitating the comforting touch of a lover instead of a torturer, as if I was crying out in passion and not in pain.
“Ready to talk now?” I barely managed to hear someone ask.
The room was silent save for the deep breaths I was drawing in as I tried to calm my pounding heart and my trembling body.
